another fast update, as usual! hope I can keep this up:)

I'd like to give a big thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome (ginnyjalharry, WritersNeverDie, I-Will-Eat-You-You-Look-Tasty).

Emmylianna22: I love Luna too:) she'll make another appearance soon.

Okay, so this chapter is a bit (actually much) darker than previous intallments. I hope I did a good job and it doesn't seem too out of place or out of character.

Basically I added, but I also changed a scene.

Enjoy!

.

8: Nightmare

When they finally reached the tents, nobody felt like sleeping at all, and given the level of noise around them, Mr. Weasley agreed that they could all have one last cup of cocoa together before turning in.

They were soon arguing enjoyably about the match; Mr. Weasley got drawn into a disagreement about cobbing with Charlie, and it was only when Ginny fell asleep right at the tiny table and spilled hot chocolate all over the floor that Mr. Weasley called a halt to the verbal replays and insisted that everyone go to bed. Hermione and Ginny went into the next tent, and Harry and the rest of the Weasleys changed into pajamas and clambered into their bunks. From the other side of the campsite they could still hear much singing and the odd echoing bang.

"Oh I am glad I'm not on duty," muttered Mr. Weasley sleepily. "I wouldn't fancy having to go and tell the Irish they've got to stop celebrating."

Harry, who was on a top bunk above Ron, lay staring up at the canvas ceiling of the tent, watching the glow of an occasional leprechaun lantern flying overhead, and picturing again some of Krum's more spectacular moves.

Rowling J.K., Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, PDF, Chapter 9: The Dark Mark, page 76

He missed his Firebolt terribly and was itching to get back on it and try out some of the more daunting feats he had witnessed. The rush of wind on his face, the taste of salt in the air, the smell of wood and sweat, the breathtaking view of the sky stretching beyond his eyes, the feeling of being indestructible and yet so close to perdition, all of these sensations evoked a kind of happiness that seemed possible, a happiness that he might soon revisit. He was lulled into sleep almost against his own will, entranced by these tempting images.

He dreamt he was being called into the arena and he had a proper number on the front and his name written on the back of his billowing robes. Ludo Bagman would be shouting his name in front of thousands. And thousands would cheer senselessly as he soared into the air, above flashing lights. "I give you...Harry Potter!"

He was not entirely sure what woke him up first; the sudden crash of china or someone's loud groan.

The noise was coming from the adjacent tent. He could tell because Ron was snoring happily above him and no one else in their tent had stirred.

He sat awake for a while, wondering if he should get up and see what had happened. It couldn't be worth bothering, though. The girls must have dropped something by accident.

But just when he settled to return to sleep, he heard the groan again, only now it wasn't so much a groan as it was a stifled cry. As if someone were trying to shout, but there was a hand placed over their mouth.

Harry pricked his ears. The sound was becoming clearer and clearer.

Then there was a swish as if someone had parted some curtains and a breeze of fresh air reached his face.

Harry fumbled for his glasses. Clearly, one of the girls had decided to go out. But why so late in the night he could not tell.

He got up silently, careful not to make a single noise as he slipped his feet into his sneakers. If it was a false alarm he didn't want to be responsible for disturbing everyone's sleep.

He would've liked to check the time, but retracing his watch this late would be near impossible.

He held his wand in front of him steadily, hoping that he wouldn't have to deal with a sleep-walker. He knew how dangerous it was to wake them up.

He slipped quietly into the adjacent tent, feeling as though he were trespassing, as he quickly surveyed the beds for the missing head.

At first he didn't notice the absence, but another muffled cry came from somewhere outside the tent and this time, he heard a distinctive name and didn't have to guess any longer.

Harry ran out into the crisp air, pulling his jacket around him, as he looked beyond the tents into the ethereal mist encircling the camp.

There were very few people outside and the ones who were standing guard were sleeping heavily, hands propped under their chins. Bill Weasley was one of them.

He walked hurriedly towards where he believed the sounds were coming from.

"Ginny?" he called out, half in whisper. "Ginny?"

He heard it again. It was somewhere on his far left.

"To-om!"

His heart jumped a little at the sound of that name.

He almost crashed into a heap of luminous shamrocks posted in front of a tent whose occupiers had left them fly about as a sign of victory.

He knew one of those would provide him with far more light than a wand so he grabbed one by its tail and carried it with him.

"T-T-o-! T-T-o-mmm!" Ginny's voice yelped more strongly.

Harry rushed towards the fringes of the camp where a small clump of trees hid the redhead from sight.

"Ginny!"

But Ginny Weasley could not hear him. She could not hear or see anything around her. Her eyes were closed shut and her fists were clenched. She was having another nightmare in the Chamber.

This time around, Tom Riddle was chasing her into a tunnel she had never seen before.

This one was not adorned with serpents. Instead of the giant snake heads that always tried to swallow her whole, she saw with horror half a dozen piers rising into the air, holding the fallen corpses of her family, from her mother and father down to Percy and Bill.

"My sweet, gullible Ginny," Tom was calling from the shadows in the same silky voice she knew too well, "have you ever seen the torches light up at night?"

With a sudden flicker, the piers were on fire.

Ginny screamed in terror.

She tried casting any spell she knew to extinguish them and release her family, but the flames just kept springing up again, with more strength than before.

"Do not try to save them, Ginny Weasley! You are the one who doomed them in the first place!" he bellowed, appearing right before her, in the same school robes she had memorized so vividly.

She turned and ran for it, not caring that the flames were going to engulf her, not even looking back towards her family, because she knew she was going to be the next sacrifice. Those were the words that always followed: "You are next".

There was always some kind of sacrifice, the Chamber always demanded one. And she, usually, was left for last so that she could suffer more.

Jumping through fire she skidded across the wet floor and into a dark corridor.

She heard Tom Riddle's swift steps following her.

"There's no point in running, Ginevra," he called out, his voice echoing against the walls. "You know that better than I."

"Shut up! Shut up!" she yelled in terror. "You won't get to me! Not this time! Not again!"

"And how is this time so different?" he asked and she felt his breath on her neck as he materialized behind her in all his hideousness.

Ginny gritted her teeth, trying to stop her tears.

"Because I have a wand!" she yelled, throwing a jinx which he quickly deflected.

Tom chuckled amused. "You always have a wand, Ginevra."

"And I'll fight back!" she continued undeterred, trying to hit him again. "I'll fight back, Tom!"

"I've heard that one before too," he replied indifferently, deflecting her spell easily.

"I'll fight you because you can't hurt me!" she bellowed angrily.

"Oh, really? Is that what you think?"

"Yes, because I'm alive and you're dead!" she yelled, casting a hex that hit the walls above his head.

Tom raised an eyebrow in interest. "Well, that is new. I'm dead, am I? Then why are you trying to hex me?"

"You were always dead!"

That seemed to cause a reaction because his face contorted horribly and he gave out a shriek, his robes flying up behind him as he rose and bolted right towards her, like an enraged ghost.

"Tom, no!" she yelled, covering her face.

"Ginny! Ginny, please! Ginny, stop! Stop!"

A strong set of fingers gripped her leg and dragged her down towards him. Then another hand came up for the other leg, but she kicked and screamed and tore herself away from his grasp with all the force encompassed in her tiny body.

She could feel scratches on her face and the smell of earth and rain on her clothes.

Her fists opened and her palms felt softness underneath. She grabbed onto a branch near her and got up dizzily.

All she could see was the canopies of trees swaying back and forth menacingly as the mist closed in on her.

Tom had got up himself and was brushing his knees, panting heavily.

"Stay away from me! Stay away!" she shrieked, trying to reach out for her wand.

She gasped. It wasn't there. It wasn't in her pocket.

There was no wand.

And Tom was holding out his, a green light emanating from its tip.

The Killing Curse. Ready to blast into her until she was one with the night.

She froze on the spot, waiting with bated breath.

The most frightening thing was that he was not glaring. He was staring at her with deep concern in his eyes. For some reason, she found it even more torturous.

"Don't do it," she pleaded, her voice barely audible. "Don't look at me like that."

"Ginny! Ginny, it's me! Ginny, wake up!"

The green light fell to the ground.

She blinked in surprise. Tom bent down and picked up a pair of glasses, a pair of glasses she knew well.

He stepped out of the mist and her knees gave out as she collapsed on the ground.

Harry knelt next to her and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her lightly.

"Are you all right? You scared me half to death! Ginny?"

Ginny stared at him blankly. Harry searched her absent eyes with pressing worry.

"It was a nightmare, wasn't it? In the Chamber? Ginny, say something!"

Ginny gasped suddenly, her lungs finally filling up with much needed air and she almost fell into his arms.

"Harry," she began hoarsely, "Harry, where am I?"

"You left the tent a while ago. It was lucky I heard you."

It was then that she saw the luminous shamrock abandoned some feet away. That was what she had taken for the light of a killing curse.

She wiped the tears from her face and pulled back her hair.

"Oh, Merlin, oh, at least it's over."

"You'll be all right now. You're safe."

Ginny nodded her head unsure.

"Do – do you have these often? Do you, do you dream of him often?"

Ginny shook her head, hiding her head in her palms. "It's never gotten like this. I've never - I'm so sorry, Harry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, I'm just glad I found you."

She got up by herself, leaning against the tree trunk, but Harry kept a hand across her back in case she lost balance, because she did not seem quite stable yet.

"Ginny," he said, so softly that she almost missed it, "Ginny, did you really think I was...?"

Ginny shook her head again more vigorously.

"Then why couldn't you tell it was me?" he persisted.

But he would not get the answer to that question, because a sudden green light shot up in the air, high above the camp, enveloping the night sky in its halo.

They both looked up in wonder.

Harry thought the Irish had cast another leprechaun formation. But it was nothing like it.

(...) it was a colossal skull, comprised of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it rose higher and higher, blazing in a haze of greenish smoke, etched against the black sky like a new constellation. (page 83)

Ginny put her hand to her mouth in shock. Barely had she woken up from a nightmare to be greeted with another.

She and Harry shared a discomposed look.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice trembling.

It was then that Harry heard the loud shouts and screams coming from the camp.

He ran out of the trees, pulling Ginny after him and they were both graced with an apocalyptical image.

Tents were turned up, tiny Firebolts were flying through the air chaotically, shining rosettes and flags were caught in a hellish maelstrom and fires dotted the camp from corner to corner, rising over the green smoke.

"Torches," Ginny whispered behind him.

He could see people everywhere, running amok in complete terror. And among them were dark-hooded figures that seemed to stand still in comparison.

They were throwing hexes and wreaking havoc on anyone around them.

Several people were being levitated into the air and shot up and down as if they were mere puppets.

As he edged closer he realized they were Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager, and his wife and children. All Muggles.

His heart sank.

"Harry. Those figures. They're wearing masks," Ginny told him, disentangling herself from his grasp.

"Come on," he urged her, his voice filled with panic. "We have to find the others. They need us."

They both dived into the chaos bravely, their wands at the ready.

And they held close, they really did, but they soon lost each other.

A/N: Well, I hope that didn't seem too farfetched. I thought it would be a much more stirring and ominous scene if she and Harry had to see the Dark Mark and face the Death Eaters right after Ginny's nightmarish confrontation with Riddle.

Um, tell me what you think:)